Love is a riddle that no one can answer (re-written)
by epic ghost writer
Summary: You wake up one morning and CAN not remember a thing! When YOU are trying to FIND out your identity, you catch the attention of one of the most smartest criminals in ALL OF Gotham city! THE master RIDDLES himself! Will you ever remember your past? What does the riddler have in store for you? READ TO FIND OUT riddler x reader x ...someone new? or is it old?
1. chapter 1

**chapter 1: who the hell am i!?**

You woke up with a jolt, covered in sweat. The world seemed to move too fast For your brain and a migraine was slowly making itself known. You looked around the room, trying to focus. The room you were in didn't look familiar at all. You saw some keys on the dresser beside the bed, next to the keys laid a birthday card. You picked it up. "Have a happy birthday (y/n)." There was no name to whom it was from. You put the card back down and tried, in-vain, to remember Why you are here. You tried to think of where you could be, but nothing was coming to mind. As a matter of fact you couldn't even remember who you were! You jumped out of bed and ran into the living room in a panic, looking for clues. You saw some pictures of you with some strangers. they were hanging on the wall but they draw a blank to you. You were guessing this is your apt (apartment). You ran into the kitchen. All that you found of interest was a newspaper, the heading was "_THE CAPED CRUSADER STOPS THE JOKER AGAIN!_" "What the hell is this?" you mutter under your breath. As you set the newspaper down you noticed a door hidden behind some curtains in the far back, you walked to the door and opened it. By the looks of it, it seemed to be an office. You sat in the office chair and started to pry Open and dig through the drawers, looking for any information that could tell you who you were or at least why you couldn't remember. You didn't find anything that could inform you of your identity. You started to open the last drawer but sadly it wouldn't budge. It looked like it needed a key. Then something on the desk caught your attention. You looked over to your right and saw a yellow sticky note stuck to the computers screen. You reached over and grabbed it: "Cargo ship departure Friday 12:30 am at Gotham Docks." "Finally, a actual clue. Maybe someone there knows who i am" you thought. "Wait! what time is it?" You looked over at the computer screen, it was Friday 11:52 pm. You quickly got dressed and was running out the door when you realized you have no source of transportation. Then you remembered the keys you saw by the bed. You quickly ran into the bedroom, grabbed the keys and ran out the door. Once you reached the parking lot, you noticed that there were cars as far as the eye can see. You felt lost one the sea of metal. You looked at your keys and noticed the logo, it said said " Harley-Davidson motorcycles." You started looking for a motorcycle as fast as you could. When you found it, you hoped that you still remembered how to drive one. You started the motorcycle and was on your way the the harbor.

* * *

( 15 minutes later)

You were 5 minutes away from the docks when you ran out of gas, "i guess i forgot to check my gas tank." You snickered. "And there ain't no fill'n you up either cause i don't have a wallet. Hell for all I know, I'm broke!" you mumbled out loud. Now you have to walk the rest of the way. It was dark and cold but that didn't bother you. You couldn't tell why but you got the feeling that the lighting and climate was the least of your worries. As you were walking down to the docks, a large fence caught your eye. It was smashed in and distorted. Your curiosity got the best of you and you slowly walked towards the side of the broken fence to get a better look. You were curious to know what was on the other side. As you looked through the twisted fence you saw a man in a green suit and top hat, getting out of a car. He looked classy in his green suit but a little shabby do to the obvious wear and tear. As you got closer you noticed his license plate didn't have numbers, it had three green question marks on it (?). He was walking to the door of what looked like an abandoned building. The way he walked with confidence, and a vain sense of pride, like he owned the place. As if everyone else was beneath him. But with the outlandish choice of clothing and character, you figured that he wasn't the type to worry about what other people might think of him. After he went inside your curiosity got the best of you once more and you crawled through an opening in the fence. "What the hell, i've got time to kill." You quietly murmured. As you walked around the building you came across a ladder that goes up to the roof. You climbed the ladder to the top and saw a broken sunroof. You swallowed your fear and slowly walked towards the sun roof. The urge to peer inside was irresistible. When you finally got to the old foggy glass of the sunroof you could just barely make out the mess of gadgets and computer monitors littered down in the room below. You leaned in closer to get a better look but you lost grip and fell through the glass. You landed on you feet but quickly fell down from the pain. The man in green quickly turned to face his new intruder; you. As you were on the floor the man hunched over And leaned in close to your face, tipping his shabby green bowler hat ever so slightly and said "Ah how nice of you to _**drop** _in."

Before you could even blink, you were looking down the barrel of a rather long colt revolver. He places it under your chin, nudging your head up. He wore a mask around his eyes; not that it would matter, half of his face was covered by the shadow of his hat. He smiles down at you and says "Riddle me this little birdy, I am long and sturdy like a brick, but watch out, for when you squeeze me I like to kick, and you'll never hear me sing until I spit, what am I?" He asked, rather amused with himself. "Argh!" you grunted. You were trying to regain your strength. Your mind still in a daze but you knew the answer was staring you in the face. You were really starting regret climbing up to the roof. "Ooh, i'm sorry i didn't catch that, come again?" He said while putting his other hand around his ear as he leaned in a little closer, urging you to speak up. "Gu..guns.." you mumbled in a angry and painful tone.

"Hmm." He sounded quite annoyed with your answer and was giving you quite a quizzical expression. He swiftly removed the gun from under your chin, then returned to his mountain of computers and monitor screens. He stood there, next to what you believe to be his cane. It looked like it was made of gold and had a handle shaped like a question mark to boot. You watched as the cane slowly slid into his side. All the while he was smashing his fingers onto the keyboard, mumbling to himself. "What to do...what..to do" was all you managed to hear. You noticed that he placed the revolver on the far end of the narrow desk. Gathering all the strength you could muster, you darted for the gun; ignoring all the tremendous amount of pain ripping through your body. But before you could even lay a finger on the revolver, you were hit square in the abdomen. Knocking the air right out of your lungs and sending you flying backwards.

"_What to do...WITH YOU!__**?**__"_ His voice sounded crazed as he twirled his cane at his side. That's what hit you, you realized. He knocked you back with his cane. He walked up to you flipping his cane around, shoving the oddly shaped handle into your already bruised abdomen, pinning you to the ground. "Little birdy's got spunk i see. Tell me little birdy what shall I call thee?" he asked in rhyme, shoving his cane deeper into your abdomen."I DON'T KNOW. PLEASE FOR FUCK SAKE STOP, I DON'T KNOW!" You yell. "What?" he laughed. "You don't know? What do you mean you don't know?" He questioned more suriously. "I _mean_ I don't remember, ya fuck-faced leprechaun." You say out of irritation. "Now, now there's no need for name calling" he tells you while wagging his pointer finger. "Says the man who keeps calling me _'little birdy' _and speaks in rhymes and riddles!" You fire back. "Well how else am _I_ of all people supposed to speak? In pig-Latin? Surely you're joking?!" He laughs. "I'm called the Riddler for a reason after all!" "Who?"you ask.

He didn't even get the chance to retaliate to your remark before the two main doors were blown off its hinges. Followed by some high pitched giggling and hysterical laughter. "That was a _blast _uh puddin?" You hear a girl say. Her voice was grating on the ears. After the dust and smoke cleared you were able to make out the owner to that annoying voice. She had a rather large sledgehammer, wielding it quite awkwardly in her right hand. The pigtails and a slutty black and red costume didn't seem to surprise you as much as her partners did. "Shut it harls, daddy's uh workin~." Her _puddin_ said. Upon taking in his appearance, you notice that he was far more into the theatrics than this so called riddler. He had alarmingly white skin and dark sunken green eyes, matched with a pair of blood red lips. His freakish green hair and extremely odd clothing reminded you that of a clown. "_You stupid incompetent fools!_ _Are you trying to get that flying rodents attention!_" The riddler said in outrage. "Oh don't get your panties in a bunch eddy, besides batsy is...uh...little tied up at the moment, haha. So you see? There's nothin to worry about Edward-old-pal." The green haired man said, smacking his so called _'pal'_ on the back.

"NOW! Down to business, do you- _**oh**_~." He paused, his voice growing deeper. "_who's the rag-doll?" _The so called 'puddin' asked _Edward_ while he limply pointing his finger at you. Though the clownish man referred to Edward as "pal" they didn't seem to be very friendly toward one another. "No one of importance, now tell me why you and Harley are here, Joker. I have no business with the likes of _you_" Edward says, his voice growing darker. "Owe eddy! those are some harsh words." He retorted "Can't i just visit my old pal?" The Joker says defensively. As you try to listen in on the rest of their conversation you slowly lose consciousness and your world fades to black.

* * *

(some hours later)

You awoke with a start, looking at your surroundings. You noticed you were back at your apt. Everything seemed untouched. You start to wonder to yourself, "was it a just a dream?"

to be continued.

* * *

authors note: hey i have rewritten this story, i hope you guys like it. please review it means a lot.


	2. Chapter 2

**chapter 2: Not Alone...**

As you study your surroundings, you notice that its morning. You realize that you missed your only chance at possibly finding out who you are. All thanks to your carelessness and stupid curiosity. The feeling of disappointment blossoms in your chest. Slowly the realization hits you that last night wasn't a dream, a terrifying question is now left with in your thoughts. "How did I get home?" When you got up you noticed a green envelope at the end of your bed. You sat there and opened it. When you saw the contents inside you were overwhelmed with a sense of fear and relief. What laid inside was a drivers license (with your face on it), a passport, a birth certificate, etc. You were scared that someone had or was able obtain all of your information but ecstatic that you finally knew who you were, but a sudden wave of reality crashed on your happiness almost as soon as it came. you knew who you were but still can't remember who you _are. _Putting aside your sadness you notice there was a note.

* * *

note:

Hello little birdy, do you like the gift I left for you? Since you couldn't tell me who you were, I took the liberty of finding it out myself. It didn't take me long to find out all of your personal information. I'm surprised at your choice of occupation at Arkham asylum, I would of thought that we would of ran into each other much sooner. As you may not know, I tend to make frequent visits there.

P.S.

Oh and don't worry, this isn't the last time you'll be hearing from be.

until next time, my little birdy.

* * *

You immediately took notice of the fact that he referred to you as "_**MY**_ little birdy." Putting together the information that lays before you, You gather that this man was very mentally disturbed and that you should stay as far away from him as possible. But where would you go? You didn't know anywhere that you could hide, let alone know _someone _that could help you. You were stuck. Stuck in this city and with its people, and sadly, Nowhere to hide.

You set the note down, got up from your bed and went to the bathroom. As you looked at your reflection you cringe at the sight before you. Your whole right arm was black and blue, you guess at some point in your fall you managed to injure it. You pull up your pant legs only to see the same results. You started a bath to soothe your new found injuries. After the bath you decided to look for a diary or journal of some kind, to learn about what kind of person you are or what kind of life you might have had. Maybe find out where those strangers in the pictures are and hopefully find them. After hours of searching, the only thing you found was a headache.

You went back into your room and started looking at the stuff the riddler had left for you. You read about the schools you went to, where you used to live, etc. soon you came across your previous occupations, you notice that your current job is indeed at Arkham Asylum. It says that you work in the psych ward of all places. You made a mental note to research this more later. Your thoughts were interrupted by a large growl coming from your stomach. You quickly learn that you haven't been to the grocery store in a very long time, do to the fact that your fringe is barren. You begin another search for a purse or wallet but no such luck. All you manage to find is five bucks and fifty-two cents. You grab a jacket from your closet, not wanting people to stare at your bruises. You headed out the door once again. Only when you reached the parking lot did you realize that your motorcycle is still at the docks. You mentally kick yourself again for your stupidity. "Heck, with my luck it's probably stolen already." You are now forced to walk the dark streets of Gotham, alone, hungry, and with amnesia. "Yeah, not a good start" you say to yourself.

* * *

After a while of not knowing where you're going, you get lost. Soon day turns to night and there you are, lost, hungry, and now worst of all, not alone...

* * *

authors note:

i originally started this story on (another fanfic/ story website), i posted it in much shorter chapters but i could do a lot more with the format and with the readers there. this will be my last chapter of this story i post on here but i will be continuing the story on quotev. if you really like it please go follow and support it on quotev.

**you won't regret it. **


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